Guilt
by Cathhhz
Summary: Voldemort took over the Wizarding World. After a rescue mission that doesn't turn out the way it was supposed to, Hermione will be brought into the Death Eaters' lair where she will be held prisoner by Draco Malfoy.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The portkey

Since the Dark Lord had infiltrated and overthrown the Ministry of Magic, witches and wizards all over the country had chosen to flee or to hide. However, the Death Eaters were quite organized and numerous were the one to fall into their traps. The Death Eaters had been given a very strict protocol: every witch or wizard found fleeing, hiding or in disguise must be interrogated, and then discarded if they didn't bring up anything interesting. Anyone holding pertinent information was to be brought to the Malfoy Manor immediately where they would undergo further examination.

For months, the Order of the Phoenix attacked the interrogation sites often located in reclusive muggle houses. That type of mission wasn't very risky, because Death Eaters often relayed their tasks to followers of lesser importance. Members of the Order in charge of such mission were also very well organized, and it took no time at all to neutralize all the Dark Lord's followers before freeing the captives from the house. Once out of the house, they had to hurry to leave via a portkey.

On this day, Hermione and Ron had been sent on a mission of this type. As they neared the house, nothing seemed abnormal, and when they rescued the imprisoned, everything went according to plan. However, as they headed towards the portkey located in the forest behind the house they were sent to, they were ambushed. Ron and Hermione were the two only wizards with wands and they had to battle an outrageous amount of Death Eaters.

Even though Hermione and Ron were two excellent duellers, the opposite side of the battle had numbers, and soon enough, both were left wandless and hurt. Hermione had this a deep cut on her left forearm, and Ron wasn't even half as lucky. He had fallen previously, and couldn't get up without any help. As if a broken leg wasn't enough, he was bleeding from multiple gashes on his body.

"Hermione, we won't make it," said Ron as he winced in pain.

"Stop talking and move," replied Hermione abruptly, using all her strength to carry the most of his weight she could.

"Hermione, stop," ordered Ron.

"Ron, we don't have time to stop!" insisted Hermione.

"Hermione, listen to me. I'm feeling dizzy. I've lost a lot of blood. I can't physically go much further. I think, maybe you should-" started Ron.

"No, don't you even think about it for a second. You simply cannot give up now. You are hurt, not dead. We have to move," repeated Hermione.

"Hermione, this is not me giving up. This is me allowing you to survive," argued Ron.

"We can do this together," said Hermione encouragingly.

"Hermione, you are the wisest person alive. Can you please think rationally for a moment?" pleaded Ron.

"I am-" began Hermione.

"No, you are not. You know very well that we can't both reach the portkey with that bunch of Death Eaters at our heels," said Ron out of breath.

"Ron, I can't leave you. I can't see you die. I can't lose you. I love you. I-" babbled Hermione.

"If we don't separate, you will see me die anyways, because they are going to catch up. It's inevitable, you are aware of this. But if you leave, you might have a chance to get back. I'm slowing you down. I know that, I'm not dumb. And I'm smart enough to realize that your life is worth so much more than mine. You are basically the brains of the whole resistance. The Dark Lord will fall because of your ruse, your smarts, your good decisions… You need to live. Get back to Harry. Please," begged Ron.

"No! No! No! No!" sobbed Hermione as Ron slumped on a nearby tree.

Ron smiled at Hermione encouragingly, but the ache he could read on her face shattered his heart, "Hermione, I love you more than anything, than anyone. You are an angel, and you are needed elsewhere at this very moment. I don't want to use the little time you have left to escape."

Hermione kissed Ron goodbye, "I will always love you."

Hermione then turned around, and left running towards the portkey where the group of captives were supposedly waiting for her signal. She didn't turn around, because turning around would have made her go back to him, to her love. Were her duties really worth more than the life of her lover? Could she ever forgive herself for abandoning him to a certain torturous death?

Lost in her thoughts, Hermione slipped into some very liquid mud. She then heard demoniacal screams of delight: they must have reached Ron. She hurriedly got up to rejoin the group. They couldn't be far behind.

"It's the tire! Touch the tire!" yelled Hermione as she reached the group.

Some had the reflex to reach for the tire while others were destabilized by the arrival of Hermione. The few that had touched the tire soon disappeared whereas the rest of the group were left innerved.

The majority of the group missed the portkey. She missed the portkey. Ron was now between the hands of Death Eaters. And as if that wasn't already bad enough, Death Eaters appeared at the edge of the clearing, encircling them. There was no escape possible.

"We found a dead member of the Golden Trio. It would have been interesting to have him alive, but I guess we couldn't push our luck that far," said one of the hooded Death Eaters.

Ron had died before the Death Eaters reached him. They couldn't kill him, make him suffer, make him lose his conscience. Well, at least, there was that, wasn't there?

"The fact that you were almost rescued by someone quite important from their little clan makes us think that there might be some quite important people hidden in your group," added another.

Hermione was wondering why they didn't recognize her. She wasn't right in the front, but she was right in their face. She lowered her eyes, because she didn't want to confront them, and she realized that her whole body was covered in mud. The mud bath she quickly got when she slipped was presently saving her life.

"In conclusion, the great news are that we're all going on a little trip to the Malfoy Manor!" squealed a female Death Eaters that was unrecognisable.

Hermione's moral reached a new low. Entering the nest of the Death Eaters hadn't been plan of her day. Actually, it just hadn't been part of any plan at all. It was a magical fortress, and she would assuredly be recognized. She had been in contact with almost all of the most important Death Eaters over the years. She would never be able to go unnoticed. It just wasn't possible.

As they moved towards the Malfoy Manor, Hermione kept thinking to herself that this was the end. Harry will have lost his two best friends in a single day, and he might not even ever hear about it. What mistake had they done? How did such a banal mission turn into the worst disaster the Order of the Phoenix had for years?

She had to think of a way to wiggle out of the situation she was in. The few that had caught the portkey would be able to tell the Order about the ambush, but never could the Order guess that she was going to be brought, unnoticed, in the Death Eaters' lair. What could the Order do for her? She just hoped they wouldn't attempt a suicidal mission for her. Her life wasn't worth all those deaths. She hoped to find a flaw in assailant's plan before they reached the manor. Once in, there was no way out.

Maybe she could faint, and they'd let her to die… She was exhausted, her arm was losing a lot of blood… She could faint, no problem… Right?

"Just to warn you: try anything, and we'll have the pleasure to kill you," said the same female Death Eater.

"Last time, we burned three men," added one of the many Death Eaters around.

"How about dismembering them this time? That actually sounds terrible!" proposed a younger Death Eater excitedly.

Wandless, outnumbered, on the brink of losing conscience… Hermione couldn't try anything. She would not give up her life to these young, immature, vile Death Eaters. She would have to follow their orders and hope to stay unnoticed for the longest time possible. Maybe Harry would find a way to get her. Yeah, Harry will work it out. He had too. He couldn't give up on her.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Tormenter

It was barely four in the afternoon, but the sky was as dark as if it had been nine o'clock at night. Not only was the sky dark, but it seemed heavy, as if it was filled with the contents of a giant ash tray.

That's when Draco Malfoy apparated back to the manor. Previously, he had been sent on a typical mission with the objective of finding and killing stray opponents of the Dark Lord. He hated it. Actually, he hated everything: everything that was happening, everything he was doing, and everything he was seeing. A couple of years ago, he had been put on a pedestal by his parents next to the greatest dark wizard of all time, Voldemort, and he had no other choice than to play the game. He was viewed as a cruel, merciless Death Eater, and for that, he was respected by all. The ones who were sceptical because of his youth, or his lineage, or his failure to kill Dumbledore himself years ago were all silenced by his own hand.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, he knew something exciting was about to happen. As he entered his residence, he saw what caused all the commotion throughout the growing crowd of Death Eaters. A new batch of prisoners had entered the mansion. Draco hated this part the most out of everything that was happening in his house. Hundreds of innocents had been brought in, tortured and then killed coldly. Their cries, their screams, and their last breath transformed his nights into nightmares.

Usually, he wouldn't even glance at the newcomers, but all this energy through the crowd told him he should maybe peek at them. At first, he didn't find anything special. The prisoners always came in whatever was leftover of their clothes, or of their skin, or even of their body sometimes, and this group was no different. A man to the left was bare chest, a young boy had dried up blood on his forehead, and an older woman was missing her front teeth… Then further on, another man was missing a finger, another young boy was lying on the floor with his knees rolled up in his chest, and a girl, maybe Draco's age, was missing half her shirt.

Draco couldn't help but pity the girl. Girls always had it far worse than men did, because it seemed like men, Death Eaters or prisoners, just could not control their sexual impulses. Narcissa, his mother, had tried to help protect the girls brought in at first, but she learned the hard way never to stand between a predator and his prey.

As Draco was going to turn around and leave, his eyes caught a glimpse of the girl's eyes. He had seen those eyes before. He was absolutely sure of it. He had seen those chocolate brown coloured eyes in the past. He left the room pondering about whose eyes those were. He started to walk towards his bedroom when he accidentally bumped into Gregory Goyle. They both apologized formally before continuing their own paths.

Three steps later, he froze. He knew who those eyes belonged too. Those rich brown eyes were Hermione Granger's. Had the brightest witch of their time actually been caught by a group of worthless men? Were the Death Eaters who caught her aware of who she was? He hadn't recognized her at first, because she was filthy with mud. Then, he actually came to the realization that she might have been purposely disguised in mud. If anyone noticed her, it was over. She would be as good as a voodoo doll.

Draco quickly spun around towards the hall where the prisoners had been a few minutes ago. When he entered the room, it was now empty. He subtly used his occlumency powers to guide himself through the maze located underground that hid so many cell, and so many lost souls.

As he quickly caught up with the newly arrived group of prisoners, he called the Death Eater that was leading the group.

"What it is you want?" asked Fenrir Greyback angrily.

"I want this group," answered Draco directly.

"It's mine. I fought for it upstairs. You know the rules," barked Fenrir in his hoarse voice.

Death Eaters had this practice where they fought for a newly arrived group of prisoners. The winner would have the privilege to do whatever the hell he wanted to do with them as long as the result was the same: pluck out all juicy information and then discard them. For the show, sometimes group owners would make public demonstrations of their vile ways.

Draco never got caught into that game. He acted above it all, but truthfully, it destroyed him to see so much violence. These were real people that had real emotions, real families, real good ideals… These were real lives that were taken away. He killed innocent people, of course, but he didn't care about giving a show.

However, he did give a good show when he would confront another Death Eater that violated his rights or beliefs in some way. All the hatefulness he felt towards his own was dumped on a single individual that had provoked him. And that was the reason why he was respected by others. No one was in position to deal with the hate living inside him.

"I could not care less about the rules, and I know that you aren't one to care about them either," replied Draco.

"I could kill you right here, right now," warned the werewolf menacingly.

"_Petrificus Totalus,_" said Draco calmly with a graceful wand motion, "Seems like you are not going to kill me right here, right now after all." Fenrir's body fell to the floor in a thumping sound which echoed through the adjacent halls.

Draco then turned to the little crowd of newcomers. "Now, you are all going to enter this cell here to my left. If you try to escape, you will die. If you don't, you will die, too. The only thing you've got left is time, so if you're willing to throw that away with your lives, go ahead. I'm not stopping anyone. Anyone who wants more time will enter this room, now," ordered Draco almost smiling.

"Time is not the only thing we've got left. We still have hope," spit a voice from the back of the group of prisoners.

"Who said that?" demanded Draco losing his calm composure.

The young girl with the chocolate brown eyes raised her hand in the air, and stared straight into his own greyish eyes. Draco saw in that exact moment the little 11 year old who knew all the answers to all the professors' questions. He almost smiled, but instead, he regained his seriousness, and said, "You're not going in this room, Granger."

Suddenly, every pair of eyes were on her as if they were waiting to receive orders from her. She could probably pump them to fight Draco, but they were unarmed, unorganised, and in no shape at all for a fight. That would also mean that she would have more deaths on her conscience. She lowered her eyes as a sign of submission to Malfoy. The prisoners' eyes darkened as quickly as hope sparked to life when her identity was revealed to Draco Malfoy, one of the most reputed wizards of all time, and they all walked into the cell one by one looking down at their feet.

Hermione was the last in line, and Draco shut the cell door right in front of her. He was serious. She was not going into that cell, and somehow, something felt right about not entering that cell with the rest of the prisoners who were promised time.

Draco pushed Hermione further through the underground maze, until they reached the last door. Draco opened the cell door, and Hermione walked inside without having to be asked to do so. As she stepped inside, she heard the worst shrieking she ever heard of coming from the cell next to hers. The only object in the cell was a metallic table, but there were also some chains attached to one of the walls.

"What's this, Malfoy? A torture room? Who do you think I am? You think pinning me to the wall and making me bleed to death will make me talk?" scoffed Hermione.

"Well, pinning you to the wall does sound pretty pleasant…" smirked Draco.

"Oh, so, that's what it's all about, is it? Quenching your sexual needs? I really did not think you to be that kind of person, Malfoy. I had a higher esteem of you… Seems like I was mistaken," puffed Hermione as she pulled the leftover of her shirt to cover the most skin she possibly could.

"Why all those assumptions, Granger?" asked Draco.

"You are the world's biggest prat," screamed Hermione. Maybe attacking her executioner wasn't the greatest idea she had gotten after all. All those years at Hogwarts were far behind: he had been terrible to her back then, and she had no clue how terrible he could be to her right now. But she couldn't keep her mouth shut, she just couldn't, not right now, not in this situation.

"Woah, Granger. I thought we passed the insult-throwing point in our lives. Didn't we leave off at battle of wits?" commented Draco almost teasingly. Draco was actually happy in this moment. For once since so many years, he could reconnect with the person he was before he put a mask on. He could reconnect with himself once again.

"Malfoy, I don't understand what this is all about. If you are going to kill me, why did you bring me here? You could have killed me on the spot in front of the other prisoners: it would have destroyed mentally the whole lot of them. And if you are not planning on killing me now, then why didn't you leave me with the rest of the group?" shouted Hermione clearly out of patience.

"Woman, your excessive amount of questions are getting me dizzy," replied Draco as he massaged the area between his eyebrows.

"MALFOY! Stop fooling around with me, and answer me, please!" begged Hermione as her eyes filled with tears. She did not want to cry, not here, not in front of Malfoy. She didn't want to expose any weaknesses, but this was hard. Had her sacrifices not been enough?

"NO, GRANGER! You listen to me, now! Here, prisoners are kept about a week, two weeks if Death Eaters enjoy you, and I mean, if they find your body pleasant. You don't have any choices here, and I have no power, nor influence here either. So if you want to stretch your stay as much as possible, you're going to have to listen to me, and do whatever the hell I tell you to do. Is this clear?" warned Draco.

Hermione slowly backed up, and pressed herself against the cold metallic table in the centre of the room. She felt a tear roll down her cheek, and lowered her eyes. In a matter of seconds, she started sobbing whole-heartedly, but she didn't care that Draco was seeing her anymore. It didn't matter anymore. She had lost all control on her life.

Draco felt useless. He didn't know whether he should or shouldn't be comforting her, drying her tears, lying to her by saying that things will be alright… She seemed so vulnerable at this moment that his heart actually ached for her. It made him sick to see her in such a miserable state. But his head wouldn't let him approach her. It wasn't right. He knew it. He knew.

However, his mind slipped, and soon, he had found a bucket and a washcloth.

"_Aguamenti_," said Draco as his wand spilled some water directly into the bucket.

As Hermione's sobs subsided, Draco started cleaning her arms which were covered in dirt. As he cleaned her arms, he noticed the deep wound. He healed the cut without any hesitation, which surprised himself. When most of the dirt had been cleaned off of her body, he discovered big bruises everywhere from her feet to the top of her back. He then cleaned her neck and her face. It felt very refreshing for Hermione, and she even agreed to slip out of her pants and her shirt to let Draco wash off most of the dirt. Hermione was so emotionally and physically drained that she fell asleep while Draco was finishing cleaning her.

Draco then left the cell. He sealed the door and installed protective charms on the door. No one was going in that cell except him. One of the prisoners of her group would certainly slip and admit that Hermione was located in the Manor, and chaos would appear between the Death Eaters. All of them wanting to be the one to break her, to make her life a living hell, and finally, to give her the death she would beg for. She was his to torment.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Tell me

When Draco woke up the following morning, he saw his room filled with sunlight, he heard the birds chirping outside his window, and he embraced the smell of food coming from the kitchens. Mornings were his favourite part of the day, because for a few seconds, none of the cruelty in the world existed. For a few seconds every day, he was at ease with himself. And that was right before his conscience came back in full extent, and slapped him hard in the face.

On this day, the first thing that jumped to his mind was Hermione. What had he done? What had he been thinking? Imprisoning Hermione? Throwing her in a cell no one could enter but himself, and… Caring for her? Oh, he was going to lose his head for doing this. And if it wasn't a blow coming from the Dark Lord, it would be coming from her, no doubt.

With that in mind, he quickly dressed up and headed towards the kitchens. He sure wasn't going to figure out what do to with an empty stomach. As he opened the double doors of the kitchen, he felt like a child bursting through the doors of a toy store. Malfoy Manor was no five-star hotel for all his residents, but it sure as hell had great food.

He picked up a few pancakes which he soaked with maple syrup and some fruits, and he sat down on a stool far away from the other present Death Eaters. He didn't mingle with them, because, in his eyes, they were a bunch of rambling idiots. However, they thought his coldness towards them was to be feared.

As he was eating his pancakes and watching the house-elves actively prepare enormous quantities of food, his eyes fell upon a smaller female house-elf. He had seen her a couple of times in his room as she tidily folded and placed his newly washed clothes. He quickly gobbled up the leftovers of his pancake, stood up, and started walking towards the house-elf.

As he stood right next to her, the whole room went silent, as if even the walls were curious to hear what words would be pronounced by Draco Malfoy.

"Your name?" demanded Draco as he pointed the little house-elf.

"Master Malfoy, my name is Laffy," answered very quietly the elf. She had always done her best to serve the Malfoys. She didn't quite understand why she would be personally called up by one of her masters, and she was quite frightened by how the events could turn out.

"You are the creature that cleans my room. Am I mistaken?" asked Draco in a tone which could be interpreted as disgust to be speaking to such a low form of life.

"Y-yes, master. W-would you want Laffy to go clean up something?" responded Laffy, her little voice trembling. Her eyes were getting watery even though she was trying with all her might not to show any sign of fright.

"Yes, actually. You see, I wanted to take a black shirt this morning, but they were all wrinkled," replied Draco. As he finished speaking, he heard her exhale and restart breathing normally, and it pained him inside to be reminded that he represented such strong terror. Usually, that little guilty feeling vanished during the day as he had to endure the presence of more and more idiots.

"I will immediately fix that, master," blurted Laffy right before she disappeared as a faint pop was heard.

As Draco turned around to leave the kitchens, he saw the elves hurrying up to clean up his plate that he had left in front of the stool he had just sat on. He then quickly directed himself towards his bedroom.

As Draco entered his room, he saw the little house-elf jump.

"Oh! Master, you surprised me. Pardon me for being so jumpy. I am going to clean all your shirts, and then, I will air dry them, and after that, I will fold them in a way that will eliminate all wrinkles. You shall nevermore see wrinkles in your clothes from this day on. I promise you," said Laffy at an unbridled pace.

"Hey, hey, hey! Calm down. I'm not going to harm you, and I apologize if I have frightened you in any way," began Draco.

"Oh! No! No! Do not worry, master. I am fine, and I will do what you have asked me to," replied Laffy, clearly relieved that he wasn't going to fry her on the spot.

Draco then turned around to place a silencing spell on the room, "I need you to do something for me. Don't worry! It doesn't involve anything mean or bad. Actually, it might be the nicest thing I've ever done, but I need help. You see, I put a young girl in one of the cells in the basement. As a matter of fact, I placed her in the last cell… And… I know there's been some terrible things that have happened in there… So, I would be very grateful if that cell was cleaned for her."

"Of course, master! I will clean it after I am finished with your shirts!" exclaimed Laffy.

"The shirts are fine, Laffy. You don't need to clean them. I just needed to find a way to talk to you privately, and I couldn't raise suspicion," explained Draco.

"Oh! Then, I will go clean the last cell immediately, master!" announced Laffy.

"Wait! Promise me that no one will know about this. This is serious. There will come a time when her presence will be known, but until then, I need you to stay silent. And please, do not raise suspicion!" added Draco, visibly a little stressed about the whole situation.

"You have my word, master!" said Laffy as she disappeared from the room.

Draco then took a deep breath before walking up to his bed. He bent down on his knees and snuck his head under the bed. He then proceeded to open the trapdoor located under his bed. He decided he was going to work a little on some potions before he pays Hermione a visit.

Draco loved potion brewing. Many of the kids at Hogwarts believed the reason why he performed so well in potions was because he was the teacher's favourite student… or the only liked student of the class. But in all honesty, he found potion brewing extremely exciting. He loved the way that mixing strange ingredients lead to some modification of the body. And he actually loved it so much, that he never saw time pass by while he was going at it.

When Draco finally got out of his little secret laboratory, the sun was about to disappear. He took a glass of water before heading towards Hermione's cell. He had no clue what to expect, and he feared a little what would happen, with reason.

Draco was expecting to see Hermione when he opened the door, but when he did, he didn't see her. He heard scrubbing, and he saw Laffy in a corner of the cell probably trying to make a bloodstain disappear.

He closed the door, turned to Laffy, and asked, "Where is she?" If Laffy had somehow gotten Hermione out of the cell, the whole world was going to turn bananas.

"Behind the table, master," answered Laffy not daring to rest from her scrubbing, even though Draco clearly wasn't the cold man she thought he was this morning, "Though, she doesn't seem very… present."

Draco walked to the other side of the table, and saw her. She had her knees up to her chin, and though her eyes were opened, she didn't look like she was seeing anything.

"Uh, Hermione…" called out Draco.

Hermione had no visible reaction, so he snapped his fingers and called her name again. And he still couldn't get a reaction. He then bent down and gently shook her shoulders a little. To this, she blinked in confusion.

"Hermione? Hey, look at me," said Draco slowly, not wanting to destabilize her.

She didn't look at him, but spoke three words, barely audible, "Draco, what happened?"

"Uh, I think you zoned out for some time…" answered Draco.

"No! No! No! Before… I mean, yesterday, I think," whispered Hermione while rubbing her forehead with the back of her right hand.

"Well some Death Eaters brought you to the manor after you've been caught, and then I took you apart from the group you were in, placed you in this room, and cleaned you up," explained Draco.

"No! I mean, before that! Before I was brought into the manor. Please, tell me. Tell me it's not true," ordered Hermione.

"Tell you what is not true? What do you want me to tell you? I don't know how you've been captured. You haven't told me," replied Draco, confused by the way Hermione was acting.

"Not how I've been captured. It was before that," said Hermione, her voice gaining strength.

"Before you were captured? I don't know what happened, I already told you… The only thing I could presume is that you either enjoyed a mud bath… Or fell into some mud… Seeing you right now makes me think it's the latter," said Draco, attempting to lighten up the atmosphere.

"Before I fell into the mud! Tell me he didn't die!" shouted Hermione.

"He? Who's He?" asked Draco.

"Tell me I didn't kill him. Tell me, Draco, tell me!" pleaded Hermione.

"Kill who? Hermione, I'm not sure I underst-" started Draco.

"Tell me Ron Weasley is still living. Tell me he is well. Tell me he is safe. Tell me he will be coming to get me out of here. Tell me that he loves me as much as I love him. Tell me that his death is a lie. I need you to tell me," sobbed Hermione, finally looking straight into Draco's eyes, but wishing they weren't grey.

"Hermione… I don't know what to say… I'm really sorry… I didn't know…" admitted Draco.

"Please… Please…. Please…. Tell me…" begged Hermione as her sobs continued.

"Hermione, I can't tell you what you want to hear. I won't lie to you. What is done is done, you can't spend the rest of your life torturing your mind with 'What Ifs'. You need to let go," tried explaining Draco.

"Easy for you to say! You know nothing about loss! You provoke loss, but don't feel it! You spread destruction across this country the way you spread cologne on yourself in the morning! Because even when you're out of sight, your smell lingers everywhere you've passed!" spit out Hermione.

"You are wrong on so many levels, Granger. You have no clue how much I've lost," said Draco through gritted teeth, trying not to explode.

"What did the Oh-So-Great-Malfoy lose? A couple of galleons? A million galleons, perhaps? Grow up Malfoy. That doesn't count as a loss," mocked Hermione.

"What's loss for you, huh? Is it when a parent sees the corpse of their child? When two lovers are separated? Are those the only two scenarios in your head? I see loss every single day when families are decimated, when children say goodnight to their parents for the last time, when men and women sacrifice themselves to give others a chance to live … And I feel their desperation. But the one time I've felt loss first-hand, was when my mother was taken from me. Would you say that a child finding the ripped body of their parent is a type of loss? Or does that not count since I'm the Oh-So-Terrifying-Malfoy? Please, Granger. If someone's new to loss, that would be you," said Draco as calmly as possible before he stormed out of her cell.

Losing someone is never easy, but that doesn't mean you have the right to downright disrespect anyone trying to somewhat help.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Dealing with loss

The next day, Draco was brutally woken up by Laffy that was shaking him the hardest she could. It was still dark outside, and he was really confused about why he had to get up so early.

"Master needs to wake up! The girl is very angry! She is trying to hurt herself!" exclaimed Laffy the second Draco opened his eyes.

"What? How can she hurt herself? That room is empty," reasoned Draco.

"Well, I was scrubbing the floor when she got up and she started banging her fists on the table and on the walls. And I tried to make her stop, but she wouldn't. And then her knuckles started turning red, and I thought I had to come get you. Sorry, master, if I was mistaken," said Laffy.

"You've done the right thing, Laffy. Were you there all night?" asked Draco as he slipped out of bed.

"Master told Laffy to clean up the cell, and it's still very filthy," explained Laffy.

"Okay, go get some sleep. You can continue later on. I'll go check her out," replied Draco as he slipped into the clothes he wore yesterday.

Draco directed himself towards the cells even though he had absolutely no desire to see Hermione. He was still somewhat angry about the conversation they had yesterday, and he didn't really want to be screamed at again. Yeah, she was dealing with the death of a loved one, but who isn't dealing with that here? Losing is a part of life. Everyone loses. Aren't we all losers somehow?

When the door to the cell opened, Draco was taken aback. Hermione was hysterical. She was trying to hit everything she could get her hands on. And in the process of doing so, she had managed to scrape about every single area of her body that wasn't covered with clothing.

"Bloody hell! Hermione, you've got to get a grip on yourself!" shouted Draco.

"This is so unfair! He never did any wrong! Why would they take him away so early? Why would they deprive him of his whole future? He didn't deserve it," sobbed Hermione hysterically as she kicked the metal table that would not budge an inch.

Hermione then started to hit the nearby wall frantically. Draco quickly got in front of her, grabbed her wrists, turned her around so she had her back to the wall, pinned her to the wall with his whole body, and said, "Hermione, you can't hurt yourself like this. Even if you manage to destroy this room, it won't bring him back. Nothing ever will, so get used to the idea. The way you chose to deal with loss is a choice. You can chose to let it define you, confine you, refine you, outshine you, or you can make the choice to move on. And I know it's been only two days, and that you're not getting a lot of time to grieve him thoroughly, but you need to understand that the world doesn't stop spinning because you feel wronged. And honestly, if the only thing you want is to join him, you can tell yourself that it's going to happen much sooner than you'd think."

Hermione's head fell on his chest, and in a matter of seconds, her tears had seeped through his shirt. She then whispered through her tears, "What am I supposed to do without him? How am I supposed to accept the fact I won't ever be able to touch his skin again? Does the pain go away? How is it possible to move on? How did you do it?"

Draco felt that her legs were giving in, so he gently let her slide down to the ground. He then chose to heal her wounds that would otherwise take days and days to heal. As he was vanishing the bruises, he told her about his mother's death, in a way no one had ever heard about it.

"When you were brought in here the first time and tortured by my aunt, things were very different. After that, a constant flow of prisoners was brought in, and almost anybody could interrogate any prisoner the way they wanted to. So I guess it isn't much of a surprise that a lot of torture had been going on. But then, the younger, newer Death Eaters started having their way with female prisoners. And then, that practice just spread like wildfire through the Dark Lord's ranks. Too many idiots. Anyways, my mom hated that this was being done in our house, and one day, she decided that she's had enough of it. She made the choice to take a stand for all the victims. My mom was a very good dueller, but she couldn't do anything against a horde of thirsty young men. She was quickly disarmed, and then they took her pride and everything left of her mental sanity," explained Draco.

"That's terrible," replied Hermione, her eyes closed.

As Draco was finishing up cleaning up her body, he continued, "And they made me find her body. It was atrocious. You don't really know what you're seeing. You don't really understand what it is you're supposed to be seeing or thinking. You don't know what to do or who to tell… I was completely shocked and pained, but I think the final blow was seeing my father's facial expression when he heard the news for the first time. His face dropped like all life in him was sucked out. And I know that my father has about every single flaw in this universe, but I think he was capable of love… for her. I think he really loved her. And I'm pretty sure a part of him died with her. So I felt like I lost the both of my parents that day."

"And how did you deal with it?" asked Hermione.

Draco was done healing her wounds, and just sat down next to her before he went on, "I was angry for a long while, which led me to the somewhat unwise decision to take my revenge."

"What did you do?" inquired Hermione.

"Well… I might've… killed them all," answered Draco, shyly.

"All of them? How did you do that?" asked Hermione, shocked.

"Well, you might not remember this very well, but I was actually quite passionate about potions when we were in school," began Draco.

"Oh, yes, I remember that. I could never beat you at potions. It frustrated me a lot, and I blamed professor Snape for your ease at getting O's all the time," interrupted Hermione.

"You weren't the only one, but I truly loved potion brewing. And I started experimenting mixes at home. Well, at first, I was just attempting to brew extremely difficult potions, but then I started getting curious about what would happen if you mixed two potions together. Would their respective properties add one to another? Would one cancel the other out? Would it make a completely different potion, or end up as a soup of bizarre ingredients? When I started to experiment, I was a little afraid of the results, so I started out with basic potions and didn't get very interesting results. When I learned what had happened to my mother, I was so enraged that I thought: what if I can get them at their own game? What if their despicable actions backfired and killed them? With that in mind, I started dissecting the problem and figured I needed to brew a lethal lust potion. And, in the end, that's exactly what I did," explained Draco.

"You managed to brew a lethal lust potion? How did you do that? How does it work?" asked Hermione, clearly impressed with his potion brewing abilities.

"That one, surprisingly and against all odds, I actually got on my first try. I mixed a simple commercially-made Lust Concoction with a perfect Draught of Living Death, and it just worked. I know that the Draught of Living Death induces a lengthy deathlike slumber, but mixed with a Lust Concoction, it's fatal. And the way it works, well… basically, after you climax, you begin feeling drowsy until you fall asleep and your whole body just shuts down," answers Draco, in a tone that didn't leave any doubt about his passion for potion brewing.

"Wow, that's really… something. Did you try the Wiggenweld Potion? It's the antidote for magically induced sleep! Maybe it works on your potion too!" observed Hermione. Although her brewing skills weren't as flawless as Draco's, her knowledge concerning potions was impeccable.

"Indeed I did try, but my tester was as dead as could be. So I then slipped the potion in all of the sinners' food at dinner. They were all dead by morning, and no one could explain it, although some pointed their fingers at me," added Draco.

"And nobody did anything about it? Why didn't you slip it in the others' meals or threaten them to do it if they didn't stop doing it?" asked Hermione, curious.

"Well, as for your first question, word had gotten around about what they've done, so a lot thought they deserved the outcome of the situation, and others either didn't care or were too afraid to say otherwise. And as for your second question, threatening them would have gotten me killed, I believe. Additionally, I don't think the Dark Lord would have been pleased to learn that I decimated his army of sexually-twisted followers," mentioned Draco.

"Right… And how do you feel about the outcome of your revenge?" Hermione demanded.

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, killing doesn't always solve the problem. The satisfaction of getting my revenge wasn't exactly what I had hoped it would be. I mean, I thought that if they died, I would be fine, but that wasn't true. My mother didn't come back to life for what I did. I didn't get praise or anything for what I did. So, in the end, I had to grief like anyone dealing with a lost loved one. And it was very hard for me, because for the first time in my life, what I wanted I could never have. And I'm not referring to the amount of gold we have, but I was taught that I could have anything I wanted if I worked for it. And when you deal with the loss of a loved one, no amount of work will bring you what you want," explained Draco.

"I'm sorry for making you relive all of this," said Hermione.

"I'm actually quite glad you listened to me… It was the first time I ever told someone how I felt about my mother's death… So, thanks, I guess," admitted Draco.

"Well, you're welcome…. Oh my god, Draco, I feel so confused about all this. I don't know what to feel: pain, sadness, frustration… It's like I'm so full of emotions, but feel so empty," confessed Hermione.

"I know how that feels… You can ask yourself: what would he want me to do?" suggested Draco.

"Oh, I guess that's a good idea… Let me think… I guess he would want me to help Harry. Oh! Draco, you need to get me out of here! I have to get out! Please get me out!" said Hermione as she wiped her face with the back of her hand.

"I can't do that, Hermione," replied Draco.

"Polyjuice potion, invisibility cloak, disguise me as a dead body, maybe an elf can get me out like Dobby did last time… Anything! I have to get out! Harry needs my help!" exclaimed Hermione her mind racing through the different possibilities of escape.

"Listen to me, Hermione! You could never get out of here alive, because the only ones who can, are the ones who have the dark mark burned into their forearm," explained Draco.

"Well, can you give me a pretend or temporary one to allow me to pass the gates?" hoped Hermione.

"I think that'd be impossible… You see, not only is the Dark Lord the one that applies the dark mark, but he also manages to track the movements of each and every follower sporting the mark," added Draco.

"How is that even possible?" asked Hermione.

"Well, we have this huge crystal globe in one of our ballrooms, and he charmed it to show where his followers are. So, wherever you'd go, he could follow you, and I doubt you'd want him to find out Potter's secret hiding place," continued Draco.

As Hermione slumped back down against the wall, she said, "I guess you're right. It's hopeless."

"Don't…. don't say that. Don't lose hope," responded Draco.

"Oh, how I wish things were different…" whispered Hermione, fatigue taking over her conscience.

"In another universe, they are," replied Draco.

A few minutes of silence passed by before Draco noticed that Hermione had fallen asleep. She probably hadn't had much sleep since the moment he left her cell yesterday. She had to be exhausted. So, he lifted her up, and lay her down on the table before he exited her cell.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Pinpoint

Although the sun would be up in a matter of minutes, Draco decided that he still had time to hop back into bed to rest some more. As he was walking towards his room, he passed a few dozens of Death Eaters rushing towards the opposite direction. He found that peculiar since it was so early in the morning. So, he turned around and followed them. Maybe he had missed something while he had been downstairs with Hermione.

As he entered the hall where everyone was gathering, he quickly noticed the lifeless form lying on the ground in the center of the room. The rich brown curly mane spread in a circle around the girl's head almost made his mouth drop open. But then, he remembered that Hermione hadn't been wearing a dress, as was the girl in the center of the room.

As his breathing started slowing down, the room fell quiet and Voldemort entered.

"This morning, I shall be unraveling this young girl's mind," hissed Voldemort, "Fenrir, here, believes that the group he has taken possession of two days ago have been hiding something."

To this announcement, the crowd briefly applaud their leader. Once the room was silent, Voldemort stared straight into the girl's eyes that were forced open, and kept that position for about a minute.

Draco was terrified of how the next minutes would unwind. Being an Occlumens, Draco has the strength and power to keep Voldemort out of his head, but he sure doesn't have the power to resist any spell thrown onto him from the Dark Lord himself. In a fraction of a second, he could be reduced to ashes. He had to think of something, a plan, an excuse, anything! But his mind stayed blank, and seconds were ticking by way too quickly for his liking.

When Voldemort decided that he had seen everything there was to see in the young woman's mind, he killed her with a swish of his wand and turned to Draco, "Draco, why don't you come up here next to me?"

Fenrir backed up, and Draco, attempting to stay as classy as ever, walked up to Voldemort in a few elegant strides, stopping just a mere meter away from him.

"You seem to be well aware of the situation. How about you tell us what you know? I'm sure that what you have to say will be very interesting," ordered Voldemort.

Draco knew that he had no choice but to reveal the truth, "Ron Weasley is dead, and Hermione Granger was captured."

To this revelation, the whole crowd started chattering and you could feel the excitement fill up the room.

"That is not all there is to say, Draco. Please, go on," warned Voldemort, a crooked smile stretching across his face.

"She is in the Manor," added Draco, unpleased of the arousal his revelation was creating.

"Quiet! I believe Draco is not done speaking," insisted Voldemort.

"I have found Hermione and placed her in the last cell in the basement," continued Draco, his voice beginning to tremble as a few followers fled to the basement. He just hoped his protective charms were as effective as ever.

As soon as Draco finished pronouncing the word "basement", Lucius Malfoy had reached his son and yelled, "Why didn't you tell us, Draco? What were you thinking? Do you think this is all a game? You should have warned us immediately! Sometimes, Draco, your choices and actions repulse me."

"Sometimes? Only sometimes? Please, Father, I think-" scoffed Draco, enraged.

"Enough! Stop blabbering all you fools," advised Voldemort.

Lucius bowed his head and backed up to the place where he had been watching the scene at first.

"Draco, would you tell us why you chose to hide the girl from us?" demanded Voldemort.

"Because, all hell would be set loose if any one of you could get your hands on her," replied Draco.

To this, Voldemort started laughing, and said, "Oh, Draco, you are one wise boy. You definitely know how to get the things you want."

The whole room went as silent as it possibly could. No one had expected a reaction like this. And Lucius Malfoy felt nauseated just thinking that his son could want anything having to do with a filthy mudblood.

"Draco, my dear boy, you've earned yourself a new task," announced Voldemort, in front of everyone.

Draco felt like he was going to fall to his knees any second. What kind of torturous ritual was he going to have to submit to, or submit her to?

"You're going to extract everything Potter-related from the girl's mind. I need every ounce of information that she knows of," explained Voldemort.

"I am no Legilimens. I-" started Draco. He wasn't trying to give someone else the job, he just… didn't quite meet up with the requirements.

"The girl is too strong for that. She can't keep a Legilimens out of her head, but she would deviate her memories. No, you need to figure out how to make her tell you what she knows voluntarily," commented Voldemort.

"She would never do that. She's as loyal as a person can get. Aunt Bella tortured her for hours last time she was in here, and that never got us anywhere," exclaimed Draco, clueless as to why he was defending Granger, in all honesty.

"Draco, I could not care less about the way you manage to extract that information for that girl's body. Just know that you have ten days to accomplish your task and to present me her dead body. If you happen to be unable to respect that simple time limit, then I'll have a Malfoy head to pin to the front door," warned Voldemort before exiting the hall.

The crowd quickly dispersed itself, and soon enough, Draco was left all alone in the hall.

He dragged himself to his bedroom, threw himself on his bed, and just lay there, on his back, staring at the ceiling.

In a matter of seconds, his head started buzzing wild with questions he had no answer to. What was the right thing to do? Should he be blindly following the Dark Lord's order? Could he wiggle his way out of this? Would it be a good idea to advise Hermione of the situation? If he managed to get everything the Dark Lord so deeply wanted, would it end the war or was this all a task to prove his allegiance to their camp?

When some shuffling in his drawers made him come back to his senses, he could not tell whether an hour or twelve had passed by. As he sat up in his bed, he felt as if he was waking up from a bad dream. Maybe he had fallen asleep.

"Laffy?" asked Draco, tiredly.

"Oh! Master, I thought you were still with the girl. I apologize for all disturbances I may have caused," said Laffy, quickly.

"Do not worry, you have not posed any problem to me. As a matter of fact, it is good that you are here right now," announced Draco, an idea popping into his head. Maybe Laffy could help him figuring out what move he should be attempting next in this mess he half-willingly chose to jump into.

"Does Master need help with anything?" inquired Laffy.

"Well, remember when I told you that the girl's presence had to be kept secret, and that a moment would come when it would be revealed?" started Draco.

"Yes, I remember, Master," acknowledged the small elf.

"Well, the Dark Lord and pretty much everyone here now knows about her location," completed Draco, exasperated.

"That is bad, Master, isn't it?" asked Laffy, worried.

"Yes… Because I was given the task to make her spill all her secrets about Potter before killing her," explained Draco, the end of his sentence: a whisper.

"Master is going to kill the girl?" demanded Laffy, shocked. She knew she wasn't allowed such attitude towards her masters, but she was way too flabbergasted to even notice her mistake.

"Do I have the choice?" grumbled Draco, his hand now rubbing his forehead.

"Laffy thought Master cared for the girl," said Laffy, still thoroughly surprised about what her Master was planning to do to the sweet girl he cared for over the two passed days.

"You are a house elf! How dare you speak to me like that? You will not be judging my actions as freely as you have" shouted Draco, sounding offended, but truly just embarrassed the truth was spoken out loud. As the words escaped his mouth, he felt as if his father had spoken them, and immediately felt guilty to the bone about what he had done. He was not going to abuse of his position on this little creature that had done everything he asked for the past two days.

"Master, please forgive Laffy for being a stupid, foolish elf!" pleaded Laffy, her eyes watering.

"I'm the one who has to apologize, I believe. It wasn't right of me to snap like that at you. I'm feeling as if I was gripping on the last bit of sanity I have left… And it's slipping right between my fingers as I'm trying to figure out how to get bloody Granger to open up to me. It's taking a toll on me," admitted Draco.

"Well, if Master desires the girl to confide her secrets to you, Master will need to earn her trust," said Laffy, trying to help figure out a solution.

"She would never –" half-laughed Draco.

"To earn her trust, Master will need to demonstrate he trusts her, first," cut Laffy, completely ignoring Draco's intervention.

"And how will am I supposed to do that?" asked Draco, showing a little interest.

"Master will have to provide some of his own deepest secrets to access the same from her," continued Laffy.

"I have to spill the beans? That would only scare her away! And all this trust relationship thing is a type of intimate we definitely won't be comfortable with. Bloody hell, making her fall in love head over heels with me, a sworn enemy of hers for as long as we've known each other, in as little as ten days seems like a goal just as close to being completed as this trust thing," grunted Draco, seemingly desperate about the whole situation.

"Wait… Master, I think you pinpointed exactly what route you must take!" exclaimed Laffy, very excited.

"Making her fall in love with me?" scoffed Draco.

"Yes!" shouted Laffy.

"In case you haven't gotten the clue when you were in the cell with her, she just lost the love of her life two days ago. The probability of your plan working out is completely and entirely null," said Draco.

"Well, Master should start out by trying to befriend the girl," suggested Laffy. Laffy was aware that Hermione had lost her lover two days ago, but Draco wasn't looking at the situation with an outsider's view. Laffy had seen that both were desperate for some kind of comfort that would only be brought by the other, and for that reason, Laffy was convinced that it would work out.


End file.
